


Waiting for the Steak

by BearHatter



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Feels, M/M, S04E05: Pound of Flesh, but not really it's cool and pretty read it, it turned partially into a manifesto, steak dinner, the Rachel dilemna, this fic was not supposed to be about that but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:11:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2594945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearHatter/pseuds/BearHatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook.” ― Julia Child</p><p>Mike and Harvey eat dinner, there is relationship intrigue, and there is pining, investigation, communication, and hugging.</p><p>Now with chapter two!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I meant for this to be a nice, slashy reinterpretation of the steak dinner scene, which is one of my favorite scenes this season, by the way. And it is. And I faced the Rachel dilemna; I thought _maybe I'll just make it an AU where she doesn't exist or doesn't date Mike_ but then Mike had to be all functional and responsible. And it was a good opportunity for me to make him ACTUALLY SEE THEIR ISSUES. Well. He did in the show, kind of, too. Sorta.
> 
> I'll maybe I'll write a second chapter eventually with more of the slashy excitement I originally was going for. I'll mark complete for now, as always, 'cause it can stand alone and I am a tortoise.
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy. Comment. All those good things.

 

Sitting across the table from Harvey, eating a steak, was a new experience for Mike in lots of ways.

Across the table, well, that part was familiar now--in that adversarial sense it always had in the world Harvey had invited him into. They seemed to be facing off again and again now, and it just made Mike so damn tired. He wasn’t just fighting tooth and nail for this Gillis deal; he’d been fighting for the idea that, when this was all over, he’d get his friend back. Yes, friend.

But the thing was, sitting across the table from Harvey in this more casual setting highlighted all the doubts Mike ever had about the existence of their friendship, because this context actually was new. What did it say that the first non-work meal they shared came after their first interaction as opponents?

It was that strange combination of new bitterness, old fondness, all stirred up by stress, that made him speak somewhat inanely: “You know, this is the first time we’ve ever had a steak dinner.” He heard an unintended and sharp wistfulness in it, and he wondered if Harvey did too.

“I didn’t know you were keeping a tally,” Harvey replied, deflecting and defensive, typical Harvey.

“Pretty easy to do when the grand total is zero,” Mike just remarked, looking down at his plate. He couldn’t help thinking of all the people whose tallies were above that. Louis, of course. Dinners with the associates. Rachel. But hell, even Jessica.

“I know,” Harvey said, and Mike looked up, interested, because he didn’t even know. “I said I wanted to take you out the night you told me you were leaving.”

Mike remembered that. He remembered Harvey’s surprise martyr complex, and a hellish day, and getting a handshake when he’d really wanted a hug. He remembered wanting to stay but wanting not to poison Harvey more. He’d thought leaving would help Harvey stay on his side of the line. But now, in the middle of all this conflict, he wondered if he’d just made it so they couldn’t rein each other in anymore.

“We never got around to it,” he shrugged, ready to brush past it, ready to regret ever bringing it up. But Harvey always pressed until it hurt.

“No, I never got around to it,” Harvey insisted calmly, and nodded to affirm it, as if that made any kind of sense.

And Mike almost took it like the out it was, almost let it go by like every other opportunity to call Harvey out on the constant haziness of their relationship. But maybe he was getting used to being across the table, because this time, he put down his silverware and pressed right back.

“What does that even mean?” Mike said, quiet and deadly serious. “Are you trying to rub it in my face that you didn’t want to?” His hands rested flat on the table.

“What,” Harvey said with hardly any inflection. His face got that Look, the one that said _You’re being so stupid right now it’s making me dangerous_. Mike didn’t care. He’s blown past that look a hundred times.

“What. Does. That. Mean?” Mike repeated, as stubborn as he gets and gaining steam. “Saying you never got around to it—I mean, yeah, true, you never got around to it. Ever. And now you are. Because suddenly, now that I’m no longer working for you, you have the time for me. But pointing out the discrepancy doesn’t exactly help your agenda as far as I can see, so I’m asking what you mean.”

Harvey looked dismayed as well as upset, and shook his head sharply when Mike was done. “No, that’s not—I don’t have an agenda.” Mike just sat back in his chair, and Harvey amended his statement, “I mean, yeah, I do, I always do, but not with you personally. Right now. _What I meant_ was that… I know it’s my fault, that we’ve never had a ‘steak dinner.’” Harvey said the last two words a little sarcastically, highlighting them as the metaphor this was maybe becoming, but his face remained deadly serious.

Mike just scoffed. “Yeah, well, thanks for that miraculous insight into the way we work, but I’m not an idiot, Harvey. As a matter of fact I have noticed that our relationship dynamic is reliant upon you. And I’ve wondered why you push and pull on it constantly. And I’ve tried to adjust to it Harvey, but I’m getting damned tired of waiting on you for my next cue.” He picked up his fork moodily and jammed a bite in his mouth, as if to shut himself up.

“Mike, I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to…” Harvey sat back and huffed in frustration, “I was your boss, Mike, what the hell was I supposed to act like? Your best friend?”

Mike just regarded him, a little more calmly, swallowing. “I know you and Jessica have this adversarial thing going on, this love-hate relationship that I’ve gotten caught up in before—maybe that’s all you’ve known—but I never needed that to work hard, Harvey. And like it or not, you’ve been my best friend. Whether I’ve ever been yours…” he shrugged, weighing all the contradicting evidence for the millionth time, “Has been the subject of much interior speculation.”

He touched his napkin to his mouth, and seemed ready to stand and go, but Harvey’s hand came down and clamped onto his wrist. “Mike, wait. Just… finish your steak, okay? Let me process for one minute.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Mike’s face, and he stayed sitting. “Let the court be in recess.” He started eating again, a little mechanically, but the steak was actually pretty good for all the restaurant had been chosen for convenience.

Harvey wasn’t eating, just leaning back with his head down… processing intently, in a way he usually reserved for his most important cases. Mike’s point comparing their relationship to the one he had with Jessica was… probably a good one. And he didn’t want it to be like what he had with Jessica anyway, even if he and Jessica were on good terms now. Mike was right, they’d been friends for a while now, and Harvey knew that, it’d just been hard because he was his boss, and…

And, Harvey admitted to himself, very privately, sneaking a look at Mike up through his eyelashes, for other reasons. Reasons possibly related to… over-compensation for other feelings. And he had no idea how he was supposed to explain that to his definitely straight, former employee. Well, he was a lawyer; obviously, he wouldn’t, he would avoid that truth with others, for the benefit of all parties in this case.

So first things first: “You are my best friend, Mike,” he said, looking up, and it burned a little coming out, but it was the truth, and the look on Mike’s face was worth it. A little shock, a little pleasure, and mostly surprise at his forthrightness. Hopefully hearing that truth from Harvey would make him stop digging. Giving Mike enough information to stop looking for it: that was the trick.

“And what I meant by clarifying that it was me that didn’t get around to it, was to take responsibility for the disrepair our relationship seems to keep falling into. I know you’re a better friend than me, Mike, that’s all.” Harvey spoke sincerely and calmly, and felt the tension of the table relax a little on both sides. The crisis felt contained, and Harvey took a sip of his water. Mike, as ever, had to be placated by the prospect of new information to ponder.

Mike’s listening and accepting expression, however, was moving through initial understanding and into speculation. “Thanks, Harvey, but….no… No, that’s not all,” he said thoughtfully, no longer upset, but investigative. Shit, Harvey thought, he was wearing his insightful genius face. Harvey was always aroused and annoyed in varying degrees by that face, but in this conversation both feelings were overcome by alarm. “You would never have just told me all that, painlessly, unless there was something else you didn’t want me to dig for,” he stated.

Harvey shook his head a couple times, careful not to protest too much. “I know I’ve taught you to be suspicious, but this isn’t actually a business move, or something you have to over-analyze.”

Mike leaned forward suddenly, like the shark Harvey had always been compared to, scenting blood. His bright blue gaze was piercing and invested. “Normally true, but I think we both know not for you. Press until it hurts, right Harvey? What are you not telling me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harvey said, and turned back to eating his steak. Deny, deny, deny. Simplicity was the best policy when honesty wasn’t an option.

But Mike had already finished his dinner, and he was even more stubborn than smart when he got curious about something. When that curiosity joined forces with the fierce loyalty that lay underneath the jabs they threw at each other… The waiter swept Mike’s plate away, and instead of asking for the check, Mike ordered the crème brûlée. Harvey saw a long campaign coming.

Tension slowly crept back into Harvey’s shoulders as the table went silent for a minute, and Mike could see it, no matter how gradual. He’d hit on something big, here. Maybe he should have been asking questions all along. He decided to let Harvey stew for a little bit, still eating his dinner, and took a sip from his own glass as he marshaled his thoughts.

This definitely had to do with his and Harvey’s relationship. Mike still believed the points he’d made about Harvey’s distance were relevant, but… maybe they weren’t all. If they were, he couldn’t imagine Harvey giving in and admitting fault, not to mention talking about feelings (something he abhorred doing) so easily and quickly. Mike had expected to spend much more time pushing, or even a walkout, before they got to that point.

He still had to be careful of that really, especially now that he was more cool-headed. Whatever Harvey was hiding had to be big, if he was willing to give up that kind of information in exchange for its secrecy. Mike had to handle this more delicately, maybe.

The waiter set his crème brûlée before him, really quickly actually, so it was probably pre-made. Mike broke the crust with his spoon and took a bite, and it was better than he was expecting, so he took another while he waited for Harvey’s plate and dessert order to be take. He ordered the blueberry lavender ice cream, which Mike raised his eyebrows at.

“What?” Harvey asked, raising his own eyebrow. He spoke very casually, and Mike decided to play along and ignore his previous accusation.

“Nothing, just… lavender in ice cream? I almost thought it was some kind of typo on the menu.” Mike shook his head and took a bite of his own dessert, pointedly.

“I’ve had it before, it’s good,” Harvey shrugged. “Kind of aromatic, flowery but not in an unpleasant way. You,” he gestured at Mike with his soon-to-be-used spoon, “Are an ice cream heathen.”

“Well, then let me be struck down by the ice cream gods,” Mike quipped back promptly, but his eyes were on the spoon, which was still playing in Harvey’s fingers.

Harvey’s poise was definitely cracking. He never allowed tells like fidgeting, even under stressful circumstances, and when he saw Mike looking at him now, he smoothly put his spoon down and took his hands off the table.

Mike was ready to try peeking at the elephant in the room again, especially if Harvey was off enough to miss his turn in the back-and-forth they usually had. This time, though, he would use his own tactics, not the blunt style that Harvey liked best. “Hey, so Harvey…” he waited for Harvey to look up, face tense. “Thanks. For this, and for telling me that. It helps to know that you’re not just… oblivious to my efforts, or to your own enforced distance. I’ve been grateful to know you for a long time, and not all of it has been because of the opportunities you’ve given me.”

Mike was glad to see Harvey become more relaxed and more puzzled at the same time—emotions no one would probably see but those who knew him well, and at this point, Mike felt he could say he knew Harvey better than almost anyone else—Donna, and Jessica, and probably his mysterious brother, being the exceptions. More interesting, however, was the way he’d just _very slightly_ winced at the words ‘enforced distance.’ So that _was_ intentional then. And related to what Mike was digging for…?

Harvey, meanwhile, truly was both relieved and puzzled. It felt good to hear some validation from Mike, sure, but it was pretty roundabout if he was trying to get back to digging… and when Mike brought up enforced distance, he couldn’t help but think inwardly— _You don’t know the half of it._ If Harvey was lucky, Mike never would. He really _wanted_ to keep Mike’s friendship, and with all this Gillis Industries crap, he felt that any new awkwardness could easily send it over the edge.

But _push until it hurts,_ Mike had said, quoting Harvey even, and he now he started in earnest. “The thing is, Harvey, I can’t help but think there’s another reason for that enforced distance. You’re not only smart, you’re precise, and our friendship has only strengthened our work performance, as far as I can see. I’m not sure I understand your reasoning.”

There wasn’t much Harvey could say to that. He hadn’t exactly been prepared for a deposition on his personal life this evening. He had been preparing for a fraught stock auction, but somehow the stress of that, something easily compartmentalized into work, paled alongside this.

“You know how you once told me not to close you, Mike?” He didn’t wait for Mike’s response. “Don’t dig into me.” It was his turn to stand, and he dropped his napkin on the table. “I’m going to the restroom,” he said, and didn’t look back as he went.

Mike sighed when Harvey was gone, and let a hand come up to his temple. That definitely could have gone better, but at least he knew he was close. And Harvey hadn’t quite walked out. At least he’d be back.

Pulling out his phone, he decided to try one of the few people who knew Harvey better than he did—and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Jessica. _Hey Donna,_ he typed out, _Do you know what Harvey’s issue with me is?_ He couldn’t be more specific, but as Donna did tend towards omniscience, he figured she would know what he was talking about.

His text alert sounded only a minute later. _Oh, honey. You know I can’t tell you that._ He blew out his breath, frustrated, but his phone pinged again right after. _It’s not anything you did. Just be gentle with him, okay?_

 _Um… okay,_ Mike texted back. That was something to know, at least, though it had never occurred to him that Harvey was hiding some kind of grudge against him. That wasn’t the kind of thing Harvey hid.

Maybe that was what Mike should be focused on: what would Harvey need to hide so badly, even from Mike? Mike shoved his phone back in his pocket without waiting to see if Donna would respond, his bright blue eyes flicking rapidly back and forth over the table in thought.

Harvey, meanwhile, had gone to the bathroom and now stood at the sink, methodically washing his hands. He was having a hard time deciding who, if anyone, he should be angry at. Himself? Mike? Either one seemed a little ridiculous, but if he wasn’t angry, he could only be something unspeakable; like afraid, or hurt.

He still hadn’t decided by the time he dried his hands and went back to the table, but he figured he was better winging it than most people were with a plan. His ice cream had arrived while he was gone, so that was something. There was something comical about all this coming out over dinner. That this was all started by something so innocuous.

Harvey let his mouth quirk at that as he sat and picked up his spoon, recollecting his composure. As he tried his first bite, he finally looked at Mike, who also seemed to have come back to baseline, quietly sure of himself, for what reason Harvey couldn’t tell.

Mike didn’t speak again for a while, wary of Harvey’s temper and willing to let things settle for a while—especially since he now had an idea of what could be going on. No matter how unlikely it was, it was still a lead, and he couldn’t think of another explanation.

So instead of the conflict and tension that had characterized their time together for the last couple of weeks, they sat comfortably together, an atmosphere that could only be helped by the dessert they were eating. Mike’s foot edged forward and touched Harvey’s, both in their stiff wingtip shoes, and Harvey felt it and looked up briefly, but Mike was only eating his pudding, seemingly oblivious.

Harvey looked back down at his artfully shaped plate (what was it supposed to look like, a jellybean? Holding ice cream?) and tried not to feel like he’d lost every shred of control he’d ever pretended to have over this meeting.

“So, how’s the flower ice cream?” Mike intoned, a smile playing around his mouth though he still wasn’t looking up.

Harvey glared at him anyway. “Impeccable, actually. Why, would you like to try some?”

“Sure,” Mike replied, challengingly, which didn’t really surprise Harvey. What _did_ take him aback was Mike’s next decision: instead of using his own spoon to take a bite, he leaned forward, clearly expecting Harvey to feed him.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Harvey didn’t let anything betray his racing thoughts, just spooned up some ice cream and guided it to Mike’s lips. It was an excuse to focus on them, for once, and not only them but his tongue as it reached out to help clean the spoon off.  It flicked out again to collect errant drops, and Harvey would stop staring at Mike’s hot, wet, red mouth… right now.

He dropped his arm, a little belatedly, and after a thought, put the spoon down as well. He didn’t think he could eat off of it without embarrassing himself, at this point. He needed to get it together. “Huh,” Mike said, after some deliberation, “You were right. It’s a little weird, but good.”

“When are you gonna learn I’m always right?” Harvey grumbled half-heartedly. Mike didn’t dignify that with a response as Harvey signaled the waiter for the check.

“Let’s walk and talk for a bit, yeah?” Mike finally said, sort of gently and implacably. It gave Harvey a strange feeling, kind of a mix of relief and apprehension, and he hesitated to say yes.

“I don’t know, Mike. I have some briefs to look over, you have Rachel…”

Mike just gave him a look. “Don’t bullshit me, Harvey, especially without even trying hard. You and I have had enough of that, and we’ve just cut through a lot of it; now let’s do the rest.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Harvey rolled his eyes, “You really think—“ He was interrupted by the waiter’s return with the check, and they both were silent while Harvey glanced at it and threw in a fifty. “Keep the change,” He said with a humorless smirk, and stalked out of the restaurant.

Mike gave the waiter an awkward, tight smile and followed after him, a little more slowly. This could either make or break their relationship, he could tell; and he’d never in his life seen Harvey so skittish and off his game.

It was misty outside and cold enough to cool Harvey off, and tilted his head up just a bit to breathe in the smell of grease, exhaust, and night air that defined his city. He’d admitted it to himself a long time ago, under similar circumstances. Outside in the night of New York, finally being honest with himself, he’d thought it openly for the first time: he loved Mike.

Harvey snorted and shook his head. That had been a hell of an evening, filled with rationalizing and compartmentalizing and topped off by just enough scotch. It looked like this was turning out to be a hell of an evening too. He was already getting maudlin.

Mike came up beside him and looked up at the city lights with him. “You really love this city,” he said. “Why do you think that is?”

Harvey was quiet for a moment. “I grew up here,” he started, but before Mike could point out that that wasn’t all of it, he continued, “But that’s not all of it. I never wanted to be a big fish in a small pond. I’d rather be a bigger fish in a huge pond. New York…” he shrugged, “It’s challenging and rewarding, the city that never sleeps. People don’t sugar coat things as much.” He grinned a little, “You can be wearing a bespoke suit on your way to a million dollar fundraiser and a homeless guy will bitch at you for the way you’re walking.”

Mike watched him talk, struck by the way his face lit up. It was the most sentimental Mike had ever heard him. He’d seen Harvey passionate before, and found it violently attractive, but with this added softness…

Well. Mike had tamped down feelings for Harvey a long time ago, for multiple reasons, but with his growing suspicions and Harvey letting him in more than he ever had (albeit reluctantly) they were making themselves known again. He felt the… fixative part of him, which had always struggled not to let be consumed by Harvey, focus and refocus like a camera. Of course, if he was honest, Harvey had already drawn his attention in almost every way.

Just, never this way. Not quite.

Suddenly Mike couldn’t stand the pussyfooting around, not when he had any idea of what it could be. “Well, then, in the spirit of frankness,” he started, and Harvey’s eyes flicked back to him, making him hesitate.

“Well, spit it out,” Harvey said impatiently, in a more normal tone than he’d used for most of the evening. It made Mike feel comfortable enough to finish the thought.

“I’m beginning to suspect you have feelings for me,” Mike said in a blunt rush.

Harvey’s stomach tied itself into a quick tight knot but his face only showed incredulous irritation. “I tell you you’re my friend and you immediately start thinking there’s more?” Don’t do this, Mike. Don’t ruin it.

“Yes,” Mike answered promptly. “I notice you didn’t say anything about not being interested in guys.”

“So I’m Bi,” Harvey shrugged it off, “If you didn’t know that by now, that’s your problem. But it doesn’t mean I’m interested in you.”

Mike shrugged right back. “Combined with the enforced distance you’re being touchy about and the fact that you’re hiding something from me about our relationship, I think it makes a good case.” He cut Harvey off before he could do anything but inhale for a rebuttal. “And I _know_ it’s not a case, Harvey, I know that. It’s personal, and it’s important.”

Harvey put a hand to his forehead, only partially obscuring an ever-tightening face. “Why is it important, Mike? Why are you _doing_ this?”

Mike hesitated for a long moment, their breath misting the air further. “I can’t ignore it.” He grabbed Harvey’s arm and held on when he tried to turn away in resignation. “No, wait, Harvey, please. I don’t _want_ to ignore it. I...” he sighed explosively. “This is the worst possible timing.”

“So what else is new?” Harvey remarked dryly, and Mike laughed. It was a delighted, if rueful, sound and it did a lot to relax the atmosphere. Harvey relaxed the tension he’d forced into Mike’s grip on his arm, stepped just a little closer.

“I have feelings for you too, Harvey,” Mike said in a quiet, intense tone. “I have for a long time. I just never thought you would... and then Rachel...” He stopped, sighed again, more gently, and looked down. “Our relationship didn’t begin well. She saw me when I slept with Tess; she kissed me while I was with Jenny; I had to lie to her, she resented me. We’re never really our best selves with each other.”

Harvey didn’t say anything, just listened as Mike continued. “And now, you know, this thing with Logan. Surprise, the married guy your girlfriend had an affair with that one time--and I believe her when she says it’s over, and I don’t think she knows she does it, but I’ve seen her... _look_ at him. It just brings to mind all the failures of our relationship. To tell the truth,” he admitted, “It pissed me off, but a part of me was already resigned to it and pissed off about that. We’ve loved each other, but I think we always knew it wasn’t permanent.

“I’m not trying to dump all my relationship problems on you,” he said directly and looked back up at Harvey. “You’re the last person I’d do that to now. But I want you to know, that when it ends between Rachel and I soon, it’s not because of you.” His eyes were too dark to see well in the gloom, but Harvey could feel them on him with all their knowledge of his unique problems with certain kinds of relationships.

“So I, uh, I’ve talked at you a lot, I know,” Mike said, fidgeting. “But I guess, the bottom line is, I’m glad we’re best friends. I’m glad there’s the potential for more, too, but for now, that solid foundation is what I’ve really needed and wanted, and I want to get that back if you do.”

It was Harvey’s turn to chuckle, but it was out of happiness and incredulousness more than anything else. “Mike, that’s the most I’ve hoped for. We’ll get that back.” He nodded sharply, and echoed Mike’s words; “And that’s personal, and important.”

Mike could marvel at how quickly Harvey could regain his confidence and poise when he knew where he stood, but instead he stepped to him and hugged him tightly. It took Harvey a moment to respond, but his arms came up eventually to circle Mike’s waist and hug back. It was good. It was perfect, in fact, just the right amount of intimacy.

But Mike couldn’t resist a parting thought. “You know, for an ambitious guy, you really should be more ambitious,” he murmured directly into Harvey’s ear, making him shiver, before he stepped back, flashed a grin and walked away towards his car.

“No one has ever told me that before,” Harvey noted to the air, just a little dazed. He turned and started walking himself. His car was parked in the opposite direction.

As he walked, his phone chirped with a text notification. He took it out; it was Donna. _So, did he figure it out?_ Harvey paused and took a moment to shake his head at the nigh-omniscience of Donna before typing out a reply: _The kid is the Guantanamo of guilt-tripping. What do you think?_

They would knock out this thing with Gillis somehow, and they would get back on track. A newly enhanced track, even.

 _Oh, you love it,_ Donna texted back.

There was really only one reply to that.

_Shut up._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title card: a few weeks later... also, heads up, rating change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exciting slashy goodness, order up! This one came out really easily, which is why it's up so quick. Thanks for all the feedback, guys.

It wasn’t until weeks later that Harvey let himself think about that night. It wasn’t hard to keep off his mind at first--there was so much insanity happening. Gillis and Forstman and Mike’s job and fighting to get it all back to normal. And then it was normal, things were right again, he and Mike were back together and better than ever.

But Harvey couldn’t forget that literal voice in his ear, telling him to be more ambitious. Well, and could he--now, without without the distractions, with all the hours spent with Mike getting racked up again. His amazing mind, his smart mouth, wiry body behind his idiotic skinny ties, were all getting harder to ignore when he didn’t have a clear answer on whether he should  or not.

It was embarrassing in a way, all this indecisiveness. But of course, there was always a small part of him thinking that maybe limbo was better than rejection. Or worse: apathy. Maybe Mike had just forgotten. Maybe it was no big deal to him.

It was really screwing with Harvey’s head, and he hated that. He needed to do something, but he didn’t want to do anything to direct. He had to play it subtle. Keep his cards close to his chest. It was usually around this point in his thinking that Harvey would roll his eyes at himself and get buried in either work, an excellent movie, or, rarely, a glass of scotch.

Mike wasn’t in quite the same boat, but he was getting seasick all the same. Every time he looked at Harvey now he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper; he just was never sure when Harvey would be ready to take steps past the deep friendship they had restored.

He didn’t want to push--he’d pushed enough, pushed against Harvey’s resistance. He didn’t feel like he could push Harvey into a relationship even if he wanted to, of course--Harvey had lost none of his sharp edge--but neither did he want to seem greedy, or needy, or damage their existing relationship.

Even more important: he didn’t want Harvey to feel like a rebound. He was so far from a rebound. The furthest. He’d had feelings for Harvey just as long as Rachel, even if they’d never developed as far for lack of encouragement. But he knew how it looked. So... he was also waiting for some kind of nebulous non-rebound deadline.

Mike felt like a runner on the blocks, listening raptly for the gun, trying not to false start. And it just kept amping up, Mike’s eyes lingering on the lines of Harvey’s suit, on the laugh lines around his eyes, on the invisible lines between them, longer and longer in micro-increments.

He knew Harvey might be too proud to initiate anything or do anything straightforward, but he just wanted a sign.

 

*

 

It all came to a head on the Rafferty case. It was a hell of a case, really, mostly a trust dispute that turned into a knock-down drag-out fight between related trustees who did their very best to get Harvey and Mike in the middle of it, when in fact they were trying to represent all of them. It was hellish, but it was also one of those cases where Mike and Harvey worked perfectly in sync, Mike knowing what research to pull often without being asked, Harvey handling the right clients firmly, Mike the soft touch, and Harvey the incisive court representation.

Of course, they won, and Jessica, who was still officially unhappy with Mike’s presence, even smiled at him through the glass of his new office. Mike immediately jumped up to go tell Harvey, and had to wait for Jessica to to give her congratulations HE duck around the corner while she left, and winked happily at Donna on his way into Harvey’s office. She just shook her head, knowingly. She hadn’t tried to interfere yet, but this relationship business caused her fond exasperation almost constantly these days.

Mike and Harvey just grinned at each other when Mike first stepped into the office--they had pulled victory from the jaws of defeat, really, and they had been dealt a bad hand from the start, which made it doubly impressive. “What, have you come to show off your trophy?” Harvey bantered good naturedly.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Mike smirked. “What was Jessica in here about?”

“Well, she called us a dynamic duo, for one,” Harvey raised and lowered his eyebrows.

“She did not,” Mike said, and pointed to him, “You are lying to me.”

Harvey laughed. “No, she didn’t. She actually said, ‘Sometimes I forget that you and your associate are almost worth all the trouble you cause.’”

“She said that? To a fellow partner?” Mike asked, fascinated and unoffended.

Harvey shrugged. “Sure. Don’t make trouble, rookie. And then,” Harvey grinned, “I told her I’ve heard that a lot. Which is funny because I’m pretty sure she’s said almost exactly the same thing, like, five different times since I brought you in.”

“Seriously?” Mike inclined his head, smiling. “Is it like, a victory ritual for you guys?”

Harvey chuckled. “Maybe it is now. So she just gave me a patented Jessica look and left--she totally saw you lurking out there, by the way. I could tell.”

“Like you could tell anything from Jessica when she’s being inscrutable,” Mike scoffed, though he was unsure. He sat down on his accustomed couch and Harvey joined him on the nearby chair, crossing his legs.

“No, I could,” Harvey promised, “It was in the corner of her mouth as she was leaving. Anyway, what’d she say to you that you’ve come to report?”

“Oh, nothing. She just smiled at me through my office wall. You know I’m persona non grata in perpetua,” said Mike.

“Nice gratuitous latin. Still, a Jessica smile is nothing to smirk at,” Harvey said, smirking.

“Then why are you doing it right now,” Mike protested, pointing at him again. “You are the actual worst.”

“I think you’ll find, Ross,” Harvey said loftily, “That I am, in fact, the best.”

“‘I’m not the greatest,’” Mike intoned only a little mockingly, “‘I’m the double greatest.”

“‘Not only do I knock ‘em out, I pick the round,’” Harvey finished with him, and they grinned at each other. The celebratory atmosphere gained some tension, as neither wanted to move and break it up.

“Hey, wanna have a victory dinner tonight?” Mike asked spontaneously, off the cuff.

Harvey considered for a second and then had a beautiful moment of insight, the kind of epiphany that wins cases. “Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to keep it casual. “I pick where. Ray’s coming at six.”

“Control freak,” Mike coughed into his hand, teasing, as he stood and headed out.

“I want the Adams briefs in an hour,” Harvey called after him, and Mike flapped an unconcerned hand.

He had them in half an hour, but the day still seemed to drag on till six.

 

*

 

When six rolled around, Harvey gathered the few things he wanted to take home and headed out the door, giving Mike a diffident jerk of the head as he made for the elevators. Mike trailed him like a puppy, hastily shoving files of his own into his messenger bag. Ray was already waiting outside, and they slid in, Mike first.

“148 West 51st, please, Ray,” Harvey said. It didn’t mean anything to Mike, but he could feel Harvey’s eyes conspicuously avoiding him, the way they did when he was trying to brazen Mike into something. And when did Mike become so adept at reading his (few, and subtle) tells? Just months ago he would have fallen for this gambit hook, line, and sinker.

When they arrived, Harvey did hold his gaze for a moment, and when Mike stepped out, he could see why. It was that decent, scene-of-the-crime restaurant that had been the setting for That Night.

Mike’s heart beat a little faster even as his eyebrows rose in surprise. This was the sign, right? Harvey wanting to return to what they’d talked about here. Talk about it again. Mike looked over at Harvey, who was doing his not-looking thing again. He couldn’t exactly bring it up before they sat down, or try to discuss it as they walked and found seat and ordered. He’d hated all the waiting, but it’d be a few minutes more.

That time stretched yet again for Harvey with tension, and with Mike’s lack of response, although admittedly he hadn’t had much time to do so. Privately, he thought this would be a long, long day, no matter how it turned out.

So they found their seats and ordered. Harvey got the same thing as last time, Mike trying something new. They both tried to analyze what the other might mean by that, before they both gave it up and helpless and useless.

As they waited for the food, Mike’s foot came to rest intentionally against Harvey’s, even more deliberately than he had the last time they were here, though not enough for it to be classified as “footsie.” Both parties would have been horrified by the idea. Harvey’s foot pressed back just a little, and they sat and talked inanely about the workings of their latest won case.

Their food arrived, steaming and good-smelling, but Harvey still didn’t feel very hungry. Mike took his first bite, and chewed and swallowed before taking a deep breath and speaking.

“So.” he said.

“So,” Harvey repeated dryly, on edge, wondering if this would be the overdue conversation or if Mike had somehow missed his--well, still indirect, even if a bit obvious--move.

“So,” Mike continued in his most confident voice, “I have feelings for you, I have for some time, and I feel like we could successfully take our relationship to the next level. I think it needs to be all-in or nothing, because that’s what I’ve got, and I don’t know if I could risk our existing relationship for anything less.” His bright gaze was sharp and direct. Harvey felt pinned by it, made vulnerable--but, well, in the only good way he’d encountered of the feeling.

“Yes, Mike,” he said simply. Somethings were too much for many words, even for one of the best lawyers in New York. He felt a smile twitching at his lips, though. “I don’t know what’s turning me on more--the content, or the delivery of that little speech. Very direct, Mr. Soft Touch.”

“Yeah, well, this kind of subtlety,” Mike gestured at their surroundings, “Isn’t exactly sexy. It is nice, though,” he said thoughtfully, “Sweet, even.” He was only teasing a little.

Harvey gave him an unimpressed look, before having to drop it at Mike’s own exaggerated expressions. “Well then, do you want to get out of here?” Harvey jerked his head towards the door.

Mike hesitated. This restaurant could be the start of a new and wonderfully cheesy tradition. And his scallops were really good. Looking over at Harvey’s eyes and hands and mouth, though--well. “Get it to go?” he suggested. Harvey smiled sharkishly as he called the waiter over.

Soon enough, they were back outside in the fresh evening air, dangling take-out boxes. Before they could get to hailing a cab or calling Ray, however, Harvey suddenly stepped into Mike’s space, curling a warm palm around the back of his neck and stroking a thumb over his ear. He kissed him, thoroughly, warmly, and slowly before disengaging enough to speak. “This is the one thing I’m not good at talking about,” he said lowly, “But I care about you, Mike. I’m in it. All in.”

Mike felt a warm tightness in his chest and reached up to clasp Harvey’s wrist reassuringly. “I know,” he said. “Me too.”

 

*

 

Half an hour later they were gasping into each other’s mouths, Mike pressed up against the wall of a moving, private glass elevator and feeling like he was flying for entirely unrelated reasons.

Harvey was biting him now, up and down his neck, burrowing into his collar before tearing viciously at it and his tie for better access to nip at the hollow of his throat. He jerked even further into Mike, as though without his hands holding him against the wall he might escape. Mike couldn’t do that even if he wanted to, too overwhelm to do anything but accept Harvey’s punishing kisses and grope under his jacket to feel the shifting muscles in Harvey’s back and flanks.

When the elevator arrived at its destination they didn’t acknowledge it for a minute, until Harvey grabbed Mike’s jacket collar and dragged him into the apartment proper. Oce there he let go and started shedding clothes rapidly. He was still close enough to see Mike’s eyes, hot and lust-blown, pupils almost overtaking the icy blue as he followed Harvey’s lead.

Harvey finished quickly enough to unbutton and shuck Mike’s pants off, shamelessly gripping his cock through his boxers once along the way, before they were both in just their shorts and he was towing Mike into the bedroom. “You are pushy,” Mike complained, but it was spoiled by his wildly turned on tone, and Harvey only raised an eyebrow before pointedly pushing Mike onto his bed and pulling his boxers off to leave him splayed out and naked.

Harvey just stood there and surveyed him for a moment, taking in his flushed pale skin, still visible bite marks at his neck, and a gorgeous cock, hard and red and begging for a hand on it. “Harvey,” Mike whined, lifting his head, before Harvey also pulled off his last piece of clothing and climbed up to cover Mike’s body with his own.

Mike’s eyes swept down Harvey’s body hungrily, taking in what before had been covered up by so many layers of clothing. Harvey had muscles, which wasn’t surprising given his time at the boxing gym, and a cock that was fully hard but still clearly uncut. Mike reached down and grasped in in some fascination as well as desire.

“Squeamish parents,” Harvey explained in a breathless voice before reaching down and grasping Mike’s in a mirroring gesture. Mike arched into his grasp, a helpless noise escaping his throat, and Harvey kissed him, chasing it with his tongue. Before long Harvey folded both their hands and cocks together, slipping and sliding with pre-come now, and the silkier friction of their cocks together was perfect.

Harvey started biting Mike again, gnawing on his tempting collarbones, and Mike wondered why he had thought Harvey would be so controlled when he thought about this before; sure, he was controlling, Mike thought deliciously, pressing his hips up just to feel Harvey push them down, but why would he want to be restrained here in the bedroom when he had to be so restrained everywhere else?

All his thoughts were quickly silenced when Harvey slipped his hand from their mutual grasp and brought it down to press at Mike’s taint. Mike’s breath was punched out of him with the sensation, and he sped up his strokes to compensate for the loss of the hand. Or the... the gain of the hand? Mike’s thoughts were starting to go hazy with pleasure.

Harvey’s thoughts were single-minded: mine, mine, mine, claiming all the skin he could reach with his mouth. “Mine,” one escaped lowly into Mike’s skin. Mike’s other hand was in Harvey’s hair, and it tightened at the word.

“Yeah, yes, yours,” he gasped out, and Harvey rewarded him by letting his fingers dip down to circle Mike’s hole, teasing it with circling massages before dipping slightly in and pressing against his rim. This first time would be hard and fast necessarily, but Harvey was silently promising good things for the future. Mike whimpered, and his hips strove for more, and finally Harvey bit down on his ear and Mike came harder than he ever had in his life.

Harvey sat up to finished jerking himself off over Mike’s belly, Mike’s eyes locked on him hotly  despite his boneless state. Harvey felt that gaze intensely, and came after only a few seconds, groaning in relief and tossing his head back, showing Mike the as-yet untouched line of his neck.

That would change soon, Mike promised himself. But for now, he lay languidly as Harvey fetched a damp washcloth to clean them off and manhandled him under the covers. He had a feeling he had plenty of manhandling in the future, and he found himself looking forward to it. He and Harvey twined legs and Mike turned his face against Harvey’s shoulder.

“You’re mine too, you know,” he said drowsily, already half-asleep. They’d wake up again in a couple hours, but for now it was naptime.

“Yeah,” Harvey said, smiling lazily. “I think I remember something about that."


End file.
